Losing My Religion
“Come on,” James tries to motivate her, “come on, Marlene.”
She has slowed her movement down, much less flighty than she was only moments ago. James is glad she cannot see her hand from where she’s at, or else Marlene might begin to freak out once more.
“That’s good,” James nods, “you’re doing good, Dr. Mckinnon.”
Her fingers shift.
James isn’t satisfied yet. “I need you to touch each finger of your right hand to your thumb.
Marlene listens.
Pointer finger to thumb, yes.
Middle finger to thumb, yes.
“You’re doing great, keep going.” James salutes.
Ring finger to thumb, yes.
Marlene tilts her head back, finding Dorcas for only a moment before she seeps further into the background, out of sight.
“Three. Good. One more.” James talks her through it.
Marlene keeps searching for Dorcas until she watches her walk directly out of the room.
Pinkie finger, yes.
〚*〛
Mary is ready to call it, “Dr. Malfoy-”
“Wait for it,” she directs.
“Dr. Malfoy.”
“Just wait!”
Total silence, the light illuminating the heart in the O.R..
An unmoving heart.
Mary lifts her head from the patient to speak to Dr. Malfoy, prepared to begin on another tangent when the monitor starts again.
The heart is beating.
Evan is on his knees, leaning against the wall of the gallery, praying. Thanking God for not killing Deni.
〚*〛
The five of them are lined up in Chief Dumbledore’s office, waiting to see who is going to break first.
It takes Evan six seconds to blurt out, “I cut the LVAD wire.”
“Actually-” Barty begins, regretting this already, “I cut the LVAD wire.”
Regulus figures this plan is just so ridiculous that it might work, “No, I did it.” Evan’s head turns to the floor, embarrassed they are trying to cover for him, “It was me, I cut it.”
The two at the end of the line—Dorcas and Mulciber—are silent.
It’s not until Regulus nudges her with his elbow that Dorcas says, “Fine, I cut the LVAD wire.” She blatantly lies, not even bothering to hide it.
Mulciber sighs, “I didn’t do anything. I’m totally innocent.”
“Mulciber.” Barty groans.
“We made an agreement.” Dorcas scoffs.
“That’s not the point.” Barty adds, “You’re supposed to-”
He can’t believe they’re truly mad at him for this, “I didn’t even-”
“I told you guys this was a bad idea.” Regulus murmurs.
“People!” Albus shouts over them, regaining their attention, “I know who did this, so you might as well come clean. I know.”
“With all due respect, Sir,” Barty starts, “if you knew, you wouldn’t be asking us.”
Evan can’t take this, “I did what I-”
Regulus talks over him on purpose, “You have your suspicions, but you don’t actually know.”
“Not for sure.” Dorcas adds.
Which brings them back to Barty who says the obvious, “And you can’t do anything to any of us without proof, Sir.”
Dumbledore stands up, his eye-line scanning from the Evan on the left to Mulciber on the right. “Well, one of you compromised a patient’s life. One of you stole an organ. One of you jeopardized the integrity of this hospital and of U.N.O.S.. Now you tell me, and you tell me right now!”
The five of them stay silent.
“All right, fine.” Dumbledore shoves his glasses on, waiting for them to be at the door before he decides, “No surgeries.”
Dorcas looks horrified, “Sir?”
“No one scrubs in, no one watches from the gallery, no one so much as goes near the O.R. floor. Until someone confesses, the five of you are going to share a single patient. He is on the V.I.P. floor. Charles Travis. The hospital-wide banquet is tonight and he needs to be there. Whatever he wants, the five of you will provide it. Now get the hell out of my sight.”
Evan’s trying to get ahead of their anger, “I will go back and tell him. I will tell him it was me.”
“Shut up.” Barty shakes his head, “Do you want to get kicked out of the program? You will keep your mouth shut.” He swivels his head to Dorcas and Mulciber, who seemed to have teamed up today, “We all will keep our mouths shut.”
“This is crap.” Mulciber rolls his eyes, “I’m turning blondie in.”
“Mulciber.” Barty levels.
“What?” He turns, “You were the one who said we had to stand by Evan.”
“I am sorry.” Evan cuts in. “And I really do appreciate what you did for Deni.”
“Shut up.” He says, Barty stepping slightly in front of Evan and him, “Look, the only reason I lied to Mckinnon is because I wanted in on that transplant surgery. I don’t care about Deni, and I hope you get thrown out on your ass.”
“We need to stick together,” Dorcas says, suddenly reverting back to going against Mulciber, “you know, we all did this. We stick together.” Everyone stares at Dorcas until she makes a face at her own words, “Damn it, what’s happening to me?”
“Thank you?” Evan says.
“You’re welcome,” she rushes her words out, embarrassed.
Regulus focuses on their only task, “Charles Travis is a billionaire.”
Barty thinks for a minute, “That must be how they got all these fancy new surgeons here last year.”
“So, we keep him happy, how hard could that be?”
“Harder than you might think,” Macdonald steps behind them, “this is Claire and Natalie, Charles’ daughters. They’re going to tell you what they want the banquet to look like.”
Dorcas whispers to herself, “I didn’t like teenage girls when I was a teenage girl.”
Regulus watches Mulciber escort them into a conference room, “That doesn’t surprise me.”
〚*〛
Evan sneaks up to Deni’s room, the bandage running up her chest. He smiles, “You look amazing.”
She looks healthy. Her eyes are bright and there is color in her skin.
“They always tell you that transplant patients rebound fast, but, you know, to see it in person. . .” Evan gawks.
“I have warm hands,” Deni points out. “I’ve never had warm hands because of my circulation. Feel.”
Evan takes her hand. “And you have a regular heartbeat.” He laughs, awkwardly taking a step backwards, “I should go, though. I would stay, but if Macdonald catches me here, she’d. . . and you know, the Chief has us throwing this party. You look. . . whoo-hoo, Deni!” He says backing out of the room. “Okay, I’ll go.”
That was hard to watch.
“What?” Deni asks, watching Evan turn back in at the door. “You like your women sick and feeble? You don’t dig healthy girls?”
“I dig you.” Evan assures her.
“Then why are you all swirly and twitchy?” Deni says, staring.
Evan can barely hold eye contact, “No, I’m not.”
“It’s cause I asked you to marry me.”
His head snaps up, “So you remember that?”
“It’s not the kind of thing I forget.”
He chuckles, “Yeah. Look, Deni, I’m giving you an out.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m giving you an out. You thought you were dying, I was trying to save your life—mostly my friends—and, you know, everything was so. . . we can’t get married. I mean, that would be crazy, insane, we should date. You know, when your heart gets better, and you’re out of the hospital, we could actually—well, marriage is um. . . well, marriage.”
“Can I say something?” She asks, Evan shutting his mouth, “For five years I’ve had to live by the choices of my doctors. The people who cut me open. There wasn’t one choice that was mine. And now? I have this heart that beats and works. I get to be like everybody else. I get to make my own decisions, have my own life, do whatever the hell I want. So you listen closely. What I choose is you. You are who I want to wake up with, go to bed with, do everything in between with. I have a choice now. I get to choose. And you know what? I choose you, Evan Rosier. Okay?”
Evan freezes then all but runs straight out of the room.
〚*〛
The Chief is complaining to Mary about her interns. “They’re not talking. Somebody’s gotta take responsibility."
“I-I can tell you what I think happened, what I assume happened, but they’re the only ones that know it.”
The Chief comes to a new idea, “I want to meet with each of them separately. I will break them.”
“All right then.” Macdonald nods, stepping back.
“You have your dress for the banquet?” He asks.
“Excuse me?”
“Everybody has to go. Hospital wide. Got it?” He shouts, making sure it’s clear enough. "Everybody!"
〚*〛
Mulciber is groaning, listening to Claire and Natalie argue back and forth about all white or all black, or maybe colorful, or maybe not, and so on and so forth.
They stop when they hear him, confused.
Dorcas leans down, “Are you having a seizure?”
He smiles, manically, “Will that get me out of here? Fine, let’s go with seizure. For the love of God, you people need to get a life!” Mulciber shoots out of his chair, ignoring Dorcas who tries to get him to shut the fuck up.
〚*〛
Barty is slightly scared of Macdonald and the way she looks at him when he interrupts her paperwork, “Not to bother you, but. . .”
“What, Crouch?”
He steps back, falling into line with the rest of the interns.
She glances at them, “One of you better spit out the problem right now.”
“The problem is the colors, and the balloons, and the ‘under the sea’ no, it’s ‘Titanic’, hey let’s go with ‘tears in Heaven’, but no that’s too morbid, it should be pink.” Mulciber whines. “It should be red, it should be a freaking rainbow.”
Regulus adjusts the words, “What he is saying is that we are very, very hopeful that you speak teenage girl.”
Macdonald steps into the conference room, hands on her hips as she instructs the girls on the plan, “Silver and white. It’s mystical and magical without being over the top. Ever seen fashion week in New York? Lots of silver and white runways and backdrops. That’s because no matter what color the clothes are, they pop.”
“They pop?” Natalie thinks.
“They pop.” Mary nods, hand on the back of her chair. She looks at the interns, “Meadowes and Mulciber, get five hundred balloons in silver and white and a hundred in black. Shiny black, not matte. Crouch, stick with Charles, keep him happy, keep his spirits up. Black, get with Mcgonnall, make sure we can rope off the second floor nurses’ station and the waiting area. Got it?” They blink, nobody speaks. “Oh, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to look at me like that. No, you compromised my medical licence, you nearly killed a patient, lied to the Chief of surgery, and made me, your resident, look bad. Now, we are doing this party, and we are doing it right. Move.”
They scatter.
〚*〛
Sirius finds James standing in front of the board, popping his knuckles, “Hey.”
“Oh, hey.” He says, turning back the writing.
“How’s Marls?”
“Recovering nicely.” James nods.
Sirius tries to distract him a bit, “Did you hear about this stupid party?”
〚*〛
Marlene is staring at her hand, the way it begins to shake suddenly. Dorcas watches from behind the blinds. Their eyes meet for only a moment before she turns and walks the other way.
〚*〛
Mulciber is first to go.
“I went to college on a wrestling scholarship. I played baseball, some basketball, but you know we’ll go with football.”
“What the hell does football have to do with who cut the LVAD wires?” Dumbledore snaps.
“Let’s say you were drafted to a team who wasn’t your first pick. You don’t like the players, you hate the way they play the game, you even think the quarterback is full of crap.” He says, “The quarterback is a pain in the ass that you don’t owe a damn thing too. But, it’s your team, you don’t quit. You don’t talk to the press or bitch to the coach. You just go out there every Sunday, and you make the blocks and you take the hits and you play to win. You show up and you suit up and you play, because it’s your team.” Mulciber shrugs. “I hate all of them but they’re my team.”
Dumbledore folds his glasses together.
Next, he brings in Dorcas Meadowes.
“You’re a surgical junkie,” he begins with.
“Yes, Sir.” She agrees.
“I’m just saying, it’s not going to be easy to stay away from the O.R. that long.”
“No, Sir.”
“And if you want to get back to the O.R., you’re going to tell me what I need to know, right?”
Dorcas sits up a little straighter, eye to eye with the old man. “You’re right,” she tells him, “it’s not easy for me to be away from the O.R.. It’s not easy for me to sit in front of you or any other authority figure, for that matter, and not be able to give you the exact answer you want to hear. I’m the one with the answers, I’ve always been the one with the answers and right now, I don’t have any.”
“Dr. Meadowes,” he starts.
“How do you keep your edge, Sir?” Dorcas blurts, “Because I watch you, and you’ve been doing this a long time, and you’re clean. You’re focused, you are the job, nothing gets to you. And the thing is, Sir,” the unfolds her hand, “I was like that. Until I got here. Until I actually started doing this job and now everything is. . . is fuzzy or-”
“That’s beside the point,” Dumbledore tries to change the subject.
“No, see, Sir? This is the point.” She won’t give up. “Because I can’t tell you what happened in that room. I can’t tell you. And before, I could have. No guilt, no loyalties, no problem. Before, before, I wouldn’t have even been in that room. I wouldn't have gotten involved, I would have never frozen in surgery, and I would have told her what I thought she should do.” Dorcas trails off. “I had an edge, Sir, I had an edge and I’ve lost it. And I need it. I need it back. So. . . if you could just tell me how you keep yours and how not to be affected. I know I could be a great surgeon, so if you could just give me the answers, I would really appreciate it.” Her eyes well with tears.
The Chief stares at her for a moment, quietly assessing the situation, “You’re excused, Dr. Meadowes.”
No, she’s not done yet. “But-”
“You're excused.”
“I’ll tell you,” she’s desperate, face blotchy, “I’ll tell you who cut the LVAD wire, Sir. . .”
“No, you won’t.” He shakes his head.
“If you could just please-”
“I don’t want to know,” he relents, “not from you. Yeah, I have the answers, but I can’t tell them to you. I’m not going to be responsible for you becoming less human.”
She stares at him.
〚*〛
Evan Rosier’s turn.
“I’m a pretty guy.” He nods.
“What?” Dumbledore asks, not sure he heard him right.
“I’m not being arrogant, it’s just. . . it’s just kind of a fact. For a long time I made a career because of my looks so I get it. . . I’m a pretty guy. Not from a certain angle kind of way, like an obvious way. It’s the blonde hair, maybe the abs, I don’t know. I feel like-”
“Dr. Rosier.”
“That’s how people view me. I’m not a smart man or an interesting person, I’m just a hot guy. The hair and the abs, it confuses people into thinking that I’m somebody else. And I’m used to it. Girls walk away when they realize—but then Deni goes and asks me to marry her.” He laughs, sourly.
The Chief leans in, thinking he’s getting somewhere, “Is that why you cut the LVAD wires?”
“She doesn’t make me feel like I’m a hot guy. She makes me feel like. . . like me. I think he might know me. And if I did cut the LVAD wire—and I’m not saying I did—then no, I don’t feel guilty. And I know that I should, and I would, if it were anybody else. But I can’t feel anything but happiness.” He laughs.
〚*〛
Barty and the Chief are staring at one another from across the table.
Eventually, he gets bored with the silence and asks, “Aren’t you gonna. . . say anything, or?”
Completely nothing.
“I’m not going to break.” Barty assures him. “I’m definitely starting to get a little freaked out but I won’t break.” He says, awkwardly speaking to someone who won’t say anything back, “Because I do care what you think about me, I do. . . care. I just can’t tell you what you want to hear. . . which seems to be a theme in my life. Just because I can’t say something doesn’t mean I don’t feel it. You can be with a person and not love them, I’ve been there. But you can also be without a person and love them very much. You don’t need that. It’s frustrating. When what your brain tells you what you want versus what you actually want, oh, it’s complicated. You know? That’s life, I guess. And life sucks.” Barty stands up, “Thank you for this, I really needed to get this out, but everyone knows you don’t pay enough for us to get a shrink.” He jokes about walking out of the door when the Chief stops him.
“This isn’t over, Crouch, sit back down.”
“Oh, right.” He smiles. “I forgot you were interrogating me.”
〚*〛
The Chief looks at the boy, “I’ve known you for a long time, Regulus. I knew your mother and father, I knew you when you and Sirius were children. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you did not cut those LVAD wires. Regulus,” he pauses, “I need you to tell me who did.”
He turns from staring at the wall to look at his superior, “I can’t.”
“Regulus, if you cannot give me this information, don’t act like a child, I will call your mother. How do you think Walburga would feel if she knew you were running around with the other interns, breaking laws and threatening the lives of patients?” He warns him.
Regulus blinks, “You. . . I thought you said-”
“I know what I said.”
Regulus stands up, pushing the chair in behind him.
“Dr. Black, sit back down, this meeting is not over.”
Regulus runs out of there, horrified.
He makes a b-line to the pit, trying to find his brother. Sirius is lounging on a patient bed, texting someone on his phone. It’s a slow day here.
He looks up to see Regulus, frantically heading to him. Sirius sits up, anxiously, “Hey, hey, Reg, what’s going on?”
Regulus can barely breathe right now, pulling his brother into an empty trauma room.
This never would have been a problem five months ago. Five months ago, he would’ve left. He wouldn’t have helped and he most certainly would not have made a choice that gave the Chief ammunition to a gun his mother is holding.
But Sirius, as much as Regulus hates to admit it, has been a good brother.
Better than he’s been to him.
Sirius ‘forces’ him to come over, especially after his breakup. And whether or not Regulus could ever admit it, those nights were the easiest to bear.
He couldn’t let them go. Not the sleepovers, not the Sunday brunches, definitely not the fact that he is always there to catch him.
He looks at his brother and somehow cannot get the words out. Sirius will threaten Dumbledore and then it would give him all the more reason to lash out on Regulus.
He needs to figure this out himself.
There’s just no other choice.
He needs to retreat. “I can’t tell you.” Regulus tries to find a solution.
Sirius is standing in front of the door, trying to get him to calm down, “Okay, Regulus, you’re getting that crazy look in your eye when you get all mad, tell me what’s going on.”
He shakes his head, “I can’t tell you.”
Sirius huffs, mumbling, “Of course you can’t.”
“I need to find Barty.”
He stops him, “So, you can tell Barty but not me?”
“We did something stupid.” Regulus confesses, “Barty already knows. If I tell you, then you’re involved and I don’t want you to be involved.”
“What did you do?”
Regulus squints, “This very bad thing could get back to Maman and if it does—she’ll come back and I know she’s going to make me leave for real.”
Sirius waves his hand, “I’m not going to let her make you leave, okay? I won’t, you are not ever going back there.” He puts his hands on Regulus’ face, trying to get his point across even more, “I promise you.”
Regulus wiggles out of his brother’s grasp so he can get away before he starts crying.
He’s not going to cry.
On his way out the door, Regulus mumbles, “Thanks.”
〚*〛
Macdonald is changing Deni’s wound when Evan runs in, “Hey!”
“Rosier, what did I tell you!” Macdonald doesn’t have to look up, “Visiting hours are not for another hour. You are no longer her doctor. You want to see Deni, you can come back when the visitors come.”
“I would, really I would.” He says, “But it cannot wait.”
Macdonald scoffs, “If the Chief finds out you’re even on this floor-”
Deni interrupts, “Let him talk, please.”
“Yes.” Evan says. He’s still lingering by the door, “My answer is yes.”
Deni smiles, “Oh, now see?” A laugh, “You’re going to make my heart stop beating, and it’s brand-new.”
Evan walks to her side, trying to take her hand when Macdonald folds her arms and says, “I will call security on you.”
Evan steps back, hands up, “I will come back during visiting hours. And we have to go to the banquet so I’ll show you my suit.”
Deni giggles, “I cannot wait.”
Macdonald is staring, death eyes at her intern.
“I’m going.” Evan skips away.
He’s going to marry Deni.
“Evan. . .” she calls out, reeling him back in. “You did good.”
Evan blows her a kiss and really does leave. It’s just Deni and Mary in there.
She breaks the awkward silence, “I got Evan to marry me. How smart am I?”
〚*〛
Dorcas is standing at the end of the bed, staring at Marlene who won’t turn her eyes away from the window.
“They’re having the banquet tonight. You’re lucky you don’t have to go.”
“Lucky?” Marlene snaps her head over, “You really are telling me how lucky I am right now?”
“Right.” Dorcas says, remembering, “Sorry, I–sorry.”
Marlene blinks, “I don’t bear a grudge. I have to take care of myself. I don’t expect you to take care of me-”
“What?”
“I have to take care of myself and if this—if you can’t stay here for this. I’m giving you an out, Dorcas.” She explains, trying to make it any less painful than it is.
Dorcas changes the subject almost immediately, “Are you going to tell Potter about the spasm?”
Marlene sighs, “Not yet.” She pushes her tongue through her cheek, pausing, “I’m, uh. . . not yet.”
〚*〛
Barty, believe it or not, has never dressed this nice. Not since he left home. Today he went out and bought a suit because he didn’t own one.
He and Regulus are drinking some of the punch in the corner of the banquet, trying to avoid everyone else at the party.
Mary stands next to them, taking Barty’s cup and downing it. She hands it back to him.
“Hi, Dr. Macdonald.” Barty smirks, “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” She sighs, “What are you two doing?”
“Just because we are in the corner doesn’t mean we are up to something.” Barty points out.
She looks back and forth between the men, “When it’s you two, I know it’s something. It’s always something. My boyfriend is at home with the baby and I am going to try and relax the best I can here, so do not cause any more trouble. I’m looking at you, Crouch.”
Barty throws his hands up, “What about Regulus? He’s troublesome.”
“He’s depressing, not troublesome.” Mary looks him up and down. “Where is your brother?”
“Don’t know.” Regulus shrugs, “I’m not his keeper.”
Mary bites her tongue from snapping back at him, walking away. She finds Dorcas sitting alone. “What are you doing here?” She checks up on her intern, “I thought you’d at least get to get out of this.”
“Why?” She asks.
“Well. . . with Marlene upstairs? What happened to her. I’m sure the Chief would have let you out.”
“Yeah.” Dorcas says, staying still.
Mary excuses herself, not needing any more drama between her interns.
〚*〛
“James?” Lily asks, stepping towards him. James has been sitting alone on the stairs for the past half-hour, staring at the bright-red punch in his hands. “Are you alright?”
“I’m good,” he nods, although he looks totally distraught.
Lily tilts her head, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Alright then,” she offers a hand out, “will you dance with me?”
“Lils, I-”
“Come on,” she gestures to him, “dance with me. I don’t have anyone else to dance with and you being sad is actually making me feel bad for you so let’s dance. If nothing else, do it to make me feel better.”
James reluctantly takes her hand, “One dance, Evans. One.”
She smiles, leading him to the floor.
James places his hand in hers, the other on her hip. It feels like old times, like not too long ago they were perfect and dancing just like this at their wedding.
It’s like a lifetime ago.
“Is it Regulus?” Lily asks, staring at him, “Who’s got you so bent up?”
James chuckles like it’s funny, “Kinda.”
“You don’t have to talk to me about all this. It must be awkward, your ex-wife prying into your life. But you know, I worry about you. Of course I do. So, you don’t have to talk to me, but just tell me that you’re talking to someone. Sirius or Regulus or somebody.”
James spins her around, her green dress twirling. It takes him a few moments to get the words out, “I told my mom and my dad that I was bisexual and they. . . my father didn’t take it well. At all. I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Parents suck.” Lily tells him, when James knows perfectly well how close Lily is to Euphemia and Monty. Her parents didn’t enjoy the fact that Lily was a doctor, then they didn’t really like James, who stuck up for her at the awful family dinner they went to, the only one they ever went to together, and they really didn’t like her divorce. “I’m sorry. You’re brave, though, braver than me. I still haven’t told anyone that I like girls.”
James cocks his head to the side, remembering to keep dancing. “You—really?”
“Yeah.” She nods, “You’re the only one that knows, and Emmeline.”
“Emmeline?” James asks, “Vance?”
“She sorta, well we kinda. . . Emmeline knows.” Lily smirks. “She knows.”
This makes him laugh at least, his head tipping back, “So you and Emmeline are a thing?”
“Were.” Lily corrects him, “It sort of started when I got here and then fizzled out. She told me she wanted someone who was ready to commit and I told her that I was still figuring shit out so, we’re friends.”
“Is there anyone else?”
She doesn’t answer, but the look on her face is enough to tell him all he needs to know.
“Lily Evans. Who is it?” James says, eyes wide.
Lily scrunches her face, “You can’t tell.”
“I’m a fantastic secret-keeper, Lily, come on.”
She whispers, “Mary.”
“Mary, who has a boyfriend?” James frowns, “Mary who has a kid?"
“Yes, that would be her.” Lily sighs.
“Oh, Lily.”
Her hair falls over her shoulder, “I know, it’s pathetic.”
“You’re not pathetic, Lils.” James squeezes her hand, “It’s going to work out. I promise it will.”
“You too, James, you too.”
〚*〛
Sirius is escaping to the rooftop, needing a break. Regulus is stressing him out. James is stressing him out.
He doesn’t get stressed and lately, it’s the only thing he feels.
He unbuttons his stupid jacket, sitting on it as his legs drop over the edge of the building, dangling down.
Sirius fishes a lighter and a cigarette out from his pocket. He lights it, taking a puff. The smoke disappears into the night air.
“You’re a surgeon, Black, don’t you know smoking is bad for you?”
The voice sends shivers down his spine, “I know, Lupin.” Sirius takes another drag, head tilting back to see him, “How’d you find me?”
Remus sits down, facing him with one leg over each side of the wall, “I come up here all the time, this is actually my spot you’re stealing.”
“Oh, am I?” Sirius says, blowing smoke away from them.
Remus takes the cigarette from his mouth, trying it for himself.
“You smoke?” He asks.
Remus nods, “I try not to. Sometimes it helps with the pain.”
“You should ask Frank to take a look at it for you.” Sirius suggests, “See if he can do anything.”
“Uh, no.” Remus shakes his head, “That’s not happening.”
Sirius looks up at the sky, “It’s your life. If you want to live in pain, that’s on you.”
Remus rolls his eyes, “What’s up with you?”
“James is spiraling, Regulus is being all secretive again, and now you’re mad at me.” Sirius licks his lips. “Just not having a good day. And I’m not going downstairs. Not where everyone is dancing and I’m sitting alone in a corner.”
Remus sits up, stifling a groan, “Get up.”
“What?”
“Get the fuck up.” Remus snaps, Sirius standing up instantly. “Dance with me.”
Sirius makes a face and ultimately, takes his hand. “This is stupid.”
“What’s stupid is that you are up here sulking because you have nobody to dance with.” Remus laughs at him, “So just dance with me.”
They start moving, swaying side to side under the moonlight.
Sirius asks, “Does your hip hurt?”
“My hip always hurts.” Remus purses his lip, “So if it’s going to hurt, it might as well hurt when I’m with you, right?”
It’s supposed to be lighthearted. It’s supposed to be a joke. But Sirius isn’t sure if Remus is flirting or if Sirius is overreacting or if any of this is real. Maybe he is making things up in his head again.
Sirius backs away, “You should—if your hip is bad, let’s sit.”
Remus swings his leg over the wall, laying down on it. Sirius mirrors him, their heads so close that if they turned to face one another, they’d practically be kissing.
Sirius hasn’t ever. . . dated. Remus feels like a person you would date.
He should back away, run as fast as he can to save him from the wrecking ball that is Sirius Black, but he can’t move. His eyes trail to Remus, who is staring up at the sky. He doesn’t inch his head over at all, trying to act like he isn’t looking.
But he is.
He’s looking and he cannot look away.
〚*〛
Regulus is leaning against the wall, staring at his ex-boyfriend. He’s dancing with Lily. Dancing with her.
Barty stands in front of him.
“Reg.” He elongates the word, snapping to catch his attention. “Look at me.”
“What?” Regulus snarls.
“Dance with me.” He says, “Make him jealous back.”
He shakes his head, “Like he’d even pull his eyes off her long enough to notice.”
“You’re Regulus,” Barty says, as if he’d somehow forgotten, “he’s always searching for you. Just trust me on this.”
Regulus takes his hand, at the very least, this makes him less of a loser than pouting in the corner.
Regulus loops his arms around Barty’s neck, while Barty’s hands find his waist. They’re swaying back and forth, a sad excuse for dancing.
Barty frowns, “I’m not going to lie, Black, I’ve never danced like this before in my life.”
Regulus laughs, “That doesn’t surprise me.”
The only kind of dancing that Barty knows how to do is dirty dancing.
He does his best, spinning Regulus around. That’s when he catches James’ eyes on him. Behind his glasses, James’ stare is lethal.
Regulus mumbles, “It’s working.”
Barty can talk freely, considering his back is facing Potter, “What’s he doing?”
“Looking like he wants to kill you,” Regulus laughs, overplaying it. “This does make me feel better.”
Barty pulls his face to Regulus’ neck, kissing him there for a second. Regulus is surprised but he doesn’t act like it. All he can focus on is the way James’ mouth twitches as he watches.
Barty pulls back, mouth disconnecting from the other boy, “Go somewhere else.”
“What?”
“Go upstairs or something. See if he follows you, then we will know if it really worked or not.” He explains, loosening his grip on Regulus, gesturing.
Regulus swallows, “Alright, then.”
He takes one last look at James before stepping back and making his way upstairs. Regulus is walking through the halls, halfway though when he hears that familiar voice, “Regulus.”
He speeds up, “Stop.”
He is regretting listening to Barty. Since when does he listen to Barty? Barty has never been in a relationship. Certainly not in the parameters of one with as much depth as Regulus and James had.
He walks into a patient room and shuts the door, trying to get some space. James catches it before the close so he can lock the two of them in there together. It’s completely private, blinds shut, the only thing there is a patient table in the middle.
Regulus walks around it, trying to put space between them.
“What?” He asks James.
“I just wanted to make sure you are all right.” James says.
Regulus scoffs, of all things, that’s what he wants. “Are you kidding me? No, I’m not alright. Okay? Are you satisfied? I’m not alright. Because you, you’re complicated and your family is complicated and you called me a whore and then we broke up and you danced with your ex-wife who could probably steal you back any day of the week.” James is sighing, frowning as he tilts his head to the side. “And now you’re looking at me. Stop looking at me.”
James tries to step around the table, “I’m not looking at you,” Regulus steps to the side so they’re on opposite ends, “I am not looking at you.”
“You are looking at me. And you watch me.” Regulus says, “I am trying to be happy. I’m trying to move on-”
“What, by backsliding with the one man who started this shit?” James asks, angrily.
“Barty never left me. You did.” Regulus says, “You left me and I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe with you looking at me like that so just stop!”
James rubs his eyes with his palms, “Do you think I want to look at you?” His face is stone cold, “That I wouldn’t rather be looking forwards? Looking for someone who doesn’t drive me crazy. Someone who doesn’t make it impossible for me to feel normal, someone who doesn’t make me sick to my stomach by thinking about some fucking intern like Barty Crouch Jr. touching him with his hands!” He shouts, exasperated, “I would give anything not to be looking at you.”
Regulus turns and suddenly James is right in front of him, still slightly shaking his head. Like he can’t decide what to do.
Then, he yanks Regulus in by his hands on his face, somehow in the middle of rough and gentle at the same time.
He kisses him like he hates him. Like he is in love. Like every emotion is blending together and forms a fire in his heart.
James kisses Regulus like he’s going to die as soon as it’s over, never wanting to stop. Not for a breath, not for anything.
Regulus feels James’ hands in his hair, his lips trailing down to the same spot where Barty had only kissed him a few minutes ago. “Fucking Crouch.” James huffs, “Touching what is mine.”
Regulus starts unbuckling his pants for that comment alone.
He knows he should be a little stronger, put up a better fight, but come on. Who in their right mind would ever reject James Potter when he’s looking like this?
Certainly not Regulus.
James picks him up and practically rips off his clothing, laying him on the patient table, the paper ripping.
He doesn’t speak much after that, for the noises that come out of his mouth don’t qualify as words, more like an symphony of unholy music. A song James would be delighted to listen to for the rest of his life.
〚*〛
Evan is standing in the mirror, fixing his hair. Upstairs, Deni is looking at the clock, desperate for the second Evan is allowed to come in. She wants to kiss her fiance.
Suddenly, there is a strange discomfort in her chest.
Her eyes glass over and she takes a rushed breath, the monitor flat-lining.
Evan is waiting for the elevator, finally feeling pretty enough to go upstairs. He’s got the ring in his pocket, fiddling with it.
〚*〛
Regulus cannot put on his vest because there is a missing button.
James is more worried about the other things as he slides his pants back on, “What does this mean?”
“I lost a button,” Regulus stares at his shirt before his eyes scan the ground, “have you seen it?”
“Regulus, what does this mean?” James repeats.
“Help me look for it,” Regulus says, holding out his hand, “and fix your tie.”
James is like a broken children’s toy, repeating the same thing over and over, “What does this mean?”
The door swings open, it’s Emmeline. “Oh, um, the nurse told me to come find you.” She says, looking between the two of them. “You have to come now, it’s Evan.”
Regulus escapes, saved by the bell.
Emmeline stares James up and down, holding in a comment.
James does fix his tie, wiping his hands off on his pant leg.
〚*〛
Mary finds the Chief sitting in an empty O.R. gallery, reminiscing.
“Excuse me?” She interrupts him.
Albus stares through the windows, “I did my internship here,” he mentions, “my residency, came back here the minute my fellowship was done. The day they told me I’d be Chief, I was in this O.R..” He points, “Spent my whole career in this hospital. My whole life.”
Mary sits down beside him, “Sir. . .” she begins, “Deni Duquette died at seventy thirty-two this evening.”
〚*〛
Regulus and Barty show up at the same time, Dorcas standing far back by the nurses station.
“What happened?” Regulus asks, staring at the nurse.
Emmeline shrugs, “I didn’t think you’d want me to go to the Chief yet. I didn’t know what to do.”
Barty is looking around, “Where is he?”
“He’s in there. . . with her.” Emmeline nods to the door.
Barty steps right through.
One step in feels like a totally different world. Evan is clinging onto Deni’s body, which is a little blue, her eyes staring with nothing to look at.
Her eyes are still open.
“Evan. . .” Regulus says.
“I think it was a stroke.” He is clutching onto her hospital gown. “She was prone to blood clots. A clot could have formed on her sutures. Traveled to her brain. It would only take a second.”
“Ev. . .” Barty says, too afraid to step any closer.
“Dr. Malfoy did a beautiful job on her surgery.” Evan sniffles.
“Dr. Malfoy?” Regulus’ eyes are wide. Now isn’t the time to interrogate him about Dr. Malfoy, he’ll ask around later. Maybe Sirius would know.
Evan’s face contorts, “But I don’t know why I didn't think of blood clots.” A tear runs down his face, “She died all alone. She was alone.”
Dorcas is lurking behind the rest of them, “There was nothing you could have done.”
“I fixed my hair three times.” Evan bites his lip, “I wanted to look nice. I would’ve been here sooner. . .” his voice cracks, “but I didn’t think my hair looked good enough.”
“Evan. . .” Dorcas takes another step. “We shouldn’t be in here.”
Regulus tries to level, “Evan, there are things that they need—they need to move her.”
“Take her to the morgue.” He knows. He is a doctor. He knows.
“You can’t stay here,” Dorcas tells him, “I know you want to-”
Evan won’t look at any of them, “Can you all please, please just get out?”
Nobody moves.
“I want to be alone with Deni.”
“Evan, that’s not Deni.” Barty moves.
“Shut up.” Evan sighs, closing his eyes.
“Ev. . . that’s not Deni. The minute her heart stopped beating, she stopped being Deni. Now, I know you love her, but she also loved you. She wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself. Because that’s not Deni, not anymore.” Barty tells him.
Evan can’t wrap his head around this, “An hour ago, she was proposing.” Another tear, “And now she is going to the morgue. Isn’t that ridiculous? Isn’t that the most ridiculous piece of crap you’ve ever heard?” He breaks down, really sobbing now.
He tries to hold on tighter when Barty pulls him up, off of the couch and onto his feet. Evan looks like he’s going to buckle but Barty’s there to catch him, letting Evan cry into his shoulder. Like Barty can somehow soak up all this sadness and put it somewhere else completely.
〚*〛
Dorcas steps in, watching Marlene fail at keeping her hand steady. She doesn’t say anything, not a single word. Just steps to her side and lets her hand fall over Marlene’s, holding it between her skin.
〚*〛
James gets back to the party, albeit a little frazzled, when the Chief of surgery walks up to him, Mary following. He thinks he’s busted at first. That someone saw his little rendezvous in the patient room.
Then Albus asks, “Have you seen Macdonald’s interns: Black, Crouch—we’re looking for Evan Rosier in particular.”
James shakes his head, “No, I haven’t.”
Mary motions to the stairs, “Chief.”
They all turn.
Evan Rosier is approaching the door, ironically where the three of them are standing. Followed behind him are the rest of her interns, subtracting Mulciber, who is nowhere to be seen, and Meadowes, who is probably in Mckinnon’s room.
Evan’s face is tear-stained, grief-ridden, and stone-cold. He walks by them like it doesn’t matter. Like nothing matters. James is focused on the intern in the very back, the one with a missing button on his vest.
Suddenly, Evan stops, turning around and speaking directly to Albus Dumbledore.
He sucks in a shallow breath, “It was me.” He nods, “I cut her LVAD wire. I did it. No one helped me.” He confesses, “And now. . . I thought I was a surgeon but. . . I can’t. I thought I was a surgeon but I am not. So I quit.” He decides.
Macdonald doesn’t believe this, “Evan.”
He ignores her.
Barty is driving Evan home. Regulus doesn’t follow. He’s standing alone with James, cautiously stealing looks at him.
“Regulus.”
“James?”